Sail on Captain
by castiels-shock-blanket
Summary: The story of Sherlock(Captain Billy) and his first mate Redbeard. A kidlock of six year old Sherlock going on pirate adventures with his best friend/pet dog. (I promise the story's better than the summary.)
1. Chapter 1

Mycroft had just completed his homework, which was even more boring when you already know all the answers, and was just about to remove himself from the desk in the corner of his room. That was when Sherlock, well he went by Captain Billy back then, knocked lightly on the door, and pushed it open before getting an answer.

Sherlock was about six then, and as usual, he was wearing his little pirate hat atop his head. Redbeard the Irish Setter was right at his heel, seeming very content to follow Sherlock around all day. The pair both stuck their heads in Mycroft's room, looking very hopeful. "We're going into the yard. Do you want to join the landing party?" Asked Sherlock, his eyes practically glowing with hope that Mycroft might come and play pirates with him.

It was common knowledge Mycroft wasn't particularly fond of Sherlock's "first mate" Redbeard, and nor did he improve of playing make-believe in the backyard, even with his six year old brother. And, though Mycroft was already quite gifted at observation at the age thirteen, he seemed entirely to miss the gleaming hope in Sherlock's eyes.

For a moment, Mycroft said nothing. For some reason, that made Sherlock's bright eyes grow wider. Redbeard whined softly, apparently also very keen on Myrcoft joining the "landing party" to the yard. But Mycroft, who disliked the dog and often called it smelly, shook his head indefinitely. "I'm busy, _Captain Billy_." He answered, shuffling the papers of homework he had been about to put away.

Sherlock was quiet for a second. He frowned, and he didn't seem to have quite the same gleam in his eyes. "With what? You already finished your homework." He replied innocently. Sherlock was, in Mycroft's eyes, just decent in observation. But it didn't exactly take a genius to see that he was about to put the papers away, and was therefore done with his homework.

Mycroft sighed. Why did Sherlock even insist on being silly?, he wondered. Another quiet noise from the dog reminded him that Sherlock still wanted an answer. "Well, I'm busy doing very important things. For example, not being ridiculous and believing that I'm a bloody pirate." He answered, rather forwardly.

Only after he said it did Mycroft realise that he had been a little to forward. Sherlock's frown grew, and he looked down at the ground. Redbeard nudged his hand, offering Sherlock's palm an affectionate lick. This seemed to do the trick, and Sherlock looked back up. "Have fun with your very important things, then. The first mate and I will be off." He said, his voice a mixture of disappointment, anger, and something else which Mycroft couldn't quite name.

With a small huff, and a smaller bark from the dog, the two "pirates" spun around and started down the hallway. A few seconds later Mycroft could hear Sherlock singing _"A pirates life for me!"_, with Redbeard howling to the same tune. The dog had picked up the trick sometime during his first week with the Holmes family, much to everyone's dismay but Captain Billy's.

The song faded when the landing party was out of the house. They stopped on the porch, finished for now with their song. Sherlock smiled, looking down at Redbeard. "Land ho, Redbeard!" He chirped, directing a finger towards their yard. "Let's go!" His smile broadened, and took off at a run. Redbeard bounded after him, tail wagging.

The Holmes's backyard was an excellent one for running in. They didn't live to close to the other neighbourhood houses, and therefore there was a large stretch of green field to run through. A good distance off there was a brick wall, which Sherlock enjoyed climbing on. And a bit nearer, there was a small thicket of trees. This was one of Sherlock's favourite places in the yard. He liked to use an old log as a pirate ship, and he would run round going on adventures with Redbeard.

This thicket of trees was where he set off with the first mate. Their running came to a halt at the edge of the trees, and Sherlock looked down at Redbeard. "First mate, what be your suggestion?" He asked in his best pirate voice.

Redbeard looked up at Sherlock and offered two friendly barks, his tail still wagging gleefully. "Right, we have our heading!" Sherlock said in response, beginning again to run, right into the thicket of trees.

Once they passed a few trees, they slowed to a walk. Sherlock placed a palm on the fearsome first mate's had, and Redbeard nudged his hand. Captain Billy opened his mouth to say something, when a rustle in one of the trees caught his attention. He instantly turned round to look for whatever it was, still smiling broadly. Redbeard's gaze followed the captain's. Any other dog would probably have barked at something moving in the trees, but Redbeard remained quiet.

Sherlock shuffled his feet, looking up at the tall tree. The leaves rustled again, and he caught a glimpse of bright blue. "I'm going to investigate, aye Redbeard?" He said, grinning at Redbeard. Redbeard didn't make a sound, merely sat down in the dirt, looking up at Sherlock obediently.

Murmuring something about how much of a good dog Redbeard was, Sherlock made his way very carefully towards the tree. He was going for stealth, and was walking on the very tips of his toes, placing each foot down very cautiously. It might even have made a funny picture, had there been anyone to laugh but the dog.

When Captain Billy reached the trunk of the tree, he peered at it very curiously, almost so much so that one might think he had never seen it before. Eventually, he found what he was looking for. A passage up the tree, in order to reach the branch with rustling. Glancing back at Redbeard once to make sure he was still there, Sherlock started to climb the tree.

When he reached a point where he was to high for Redbeard to get to him, Redbeard half rose from his seat on the floor. Reconsidering, the dog sat down again, only to perform the same act on repeat two more times.

Redbeard whimpered, unhappy at being so distanced from Captain Billy. Sherlock glanced down, entirely unfazed by how high he had gotten for a six year old. "Quiet, that's an order." He whispered, and Redbeard sat back down silently.

That taken care of, Sherlock reached the first branch of the tree. The branch just above his was where the rustle had come from. Hugging the trunk of the tree, Captain Billy maneuvered himself so he stood rather than sat on his branch. Gripping the tree even tighter, he peered up at the branch in question.

Captain Billy smiled widely. It had been a bird, returning home to its nest. Sherlock stood as still as he could, not wanting to frighten it away before he could properly look at it. He wanted Redbeard to see too, but Redbeard couldn't climb trees. Sherlock knitted his brows together and frowned in confusion.

Sherlock's bright eyes widened when he saw more movement. The bird had been focused on feeding worms to smaller, baby birds a moment ago. Sherlock looked over again, still careful not to move to much. The birds were on the other end of the branch, and Sherlock was hoping he was too far away to concern them.

He looked down to Redbeard, still wishing he could share the sight with his best, or rather, only friend. Maybe Redbeard couldn't climb the tree and see the eggs or the baby birds, Captain Billy thought, But maybe they could come back when the baby birds were bigger?

That was when the bird noticed Sherlock's presence on the branch. From where he stood, all it could really see was his head. It hopped in the direction of Sherlock, startling him. He jumped, and slipped.

Redbeard barked, immediately leaping up. But all that fell was Sherlock's hat, the captain himself had regained his grip before he could fall as well. Though he didn't fall, Redbeard's barking had disturbed the bird. As mother birds are known to do, this one started towards Sherlock, pecking him on the head once or twice.

"Parlay!" Shouted Captain Billy, upon being pecked. Unfortunately, bird's do not respect the Pirate's Code. Sherlock scrambled down the tree, being followed by the bird until he reached the bottom. "Parlay!" He repeated at least three times before reaching the ground. When he hopped to the dirt, however, Redbeard growled and barked, and the bird fluttered off.

Sherlock was rubbing his head in the spot he had been pecked the most, and dropped down on the ground. Redbeard trotted over to him, the captain hat dangling out of his mouth. Wagging his tail, he nudged Sherlock on the shoulder.

Captain Billy looked up, once again smiling once he saw Redbeard. Taking the hat from the dog's jaws, Sherlock put it back on and hugged Redbeard around the neck. "Thanks Redbeard." He said, his voice muffled as he had his face buried in brownish red fur.

In response, Redbeard rested his head on Sherlock's shoulder and panted. "You're the best first mate a captain could ask for." Said Sherlock, pulling his arms away from Redbeard at last. Though his face stung in places, and was slightly pink, Sherlock smiled brightly. Redbeard licked his cheek and took a step back, tail waggin.

Sherlock got to his feet, adjusting his hat. "There were baby birds up there." He informed his friend gleefully. "You can't see them down here. We should come back until they're ready to fly, and then you can see them!" Suggested he, rubbing Redbeard's head.

Redbeard barked, his tail wagging even faster. Just then, a voice interrupted what Sherlock had been about to say to his first mate. It was Mycroft, calling for Captain Billy and Redbeard. Sherlock jumped eagerly, starting towards the sound of the voice.

He met up with Mycroft at the edge of the trees. "Have you come to join the landing party?" He asked eagerly, and Redbeard looked up at Mycroft expectantly.

Mycroft scowled. "Don't be silly. Mum sent me to get you, she says Dad's prepared dinner." He said, turning on his heel and starting off.

Sherlock looked down at Redbeard. "Hungry?" He asked, starting after Mycroft with Redbeard once again at his heels.


	2. Chapter 2

The Holmes's were all seated round the table, and Redbeard was seated at Sherlock's feet. As dinner began, it took no more than five seconds for Mrs. Holmes to look up from her food. "I saw Miss Johnson at the market today, she wanted me to say hello for her." She said. "She's such a dear."

Sherlock looked up from his own meal. "Miss Johnson does the books for an illegal horse racing ring, and she's worried I'm going to tell someone. She is not a dear. Mycroft, pass the butter."

Mycroft frowned. "Dog races, Billy, it's dog races." He said. He quickly added, "And not until you say please."

Mr. Holmes rolled his eyes, this being an almost ordinary conversation for a Holmes family dinner. Without making a comment as to Miss Johnson's illegal dog racing career, he sighed and passed the butter to Sherlock.

Mummy Holmes was somehow less inclined to ignore the news about Miss Johnson. "Does she really?" She asked, looked at Myrcoft in slight disbelief. Mycroft nodded. "Huh, and she seemed so innocent." Said she.

Captain Billy had stopped listening to this particular conversation, and had instead turned to Redbeard. He glanced cautiously at the parents, then removed a piece of chicken from his plate and slipped it to the first mate. Redbeard took it from Sherlock's hand eagerly, gulped it down, and licked at Sherlock's fingers. Sherlock smiled to the dog, and replaced his hands back on the table in front of him before his parents caught him feeding the dog. They weren't supposed to feed him to after dinner, or Redbeard would beg.

The next morning was a Saturday, and therefore, the two Holmes brothers had no school to attend that day. Mycroft had elected to begin his day, at ten o'clock, with a nice book. He had decided to read Ovid's _Metamorhposes._ Meanwhile, Captain Billy had been up eight, learning to play the violin. The one he had acquired was much to big for his little six year old shoulders, and he really only managed scratching sounds.

When he heard his older brother awake in the next room, Sherlock almost immediately dropped his violin on his bed, and he nearly dripped scrambling for the door. Redbeard, who had been somehow napping through Sherlock's violin practice, leaped up and followed. Sherlock reached his brother's door and knocked rapidly. He continued to knock until the door opened up and, in his eagerness, for a split second after the door had been opened. Mycroft's expression could only be described as not amused when his brother accidentally knocked on his chest rather than the door, but on the inside he was laughing.

"What do you want?" He asked, wanting to get back to his book.

"Do you wanna play pirates?" Sherlock asked, jumping up in excitement. Mycroft shook his head. "Well, it doesn't have to be pirates..." Said Sherlock, looking down momentarily. He smiled widely. "We could play Operation! Do you wanna play Operation?" He asked eagerly.

"No, Billy, I'd really rather go and read. You should do the same." Mycroft answered, shutting the door before Sherlock could say anything more.

Sherlock frowned, plopping down on the floor in the hallway. Redbeard walked up, sniffing Sherlock's cheek before giving it a slobbery dog kiss. "Let's go check on the birds!" Sherlock chirped, hopping to his feet and darting down the hallway. The first mate followed right after him, barking a couple of times.

The two of them wasted no time in relocating the tree which had now been dubbed Bird Island. Sherlock placed his hat on top of a small rock, beside which Redbeard sat. Having dropped the thing the last time he climbed the tree, he didn't want to do the same this time. With the first mate guarding his hat, however, Sherlock scampered off towards the tree.

Wrapping his arms round the trunk, Sherlock began to climb the tree. After finding the baby birds there, with the mother out to collect worms, Sherlock made his way back down the tree safely. Redbeard brought him his captain's hat gleefully, and Sherlock put it back on. They then trotted off, further into the thicket of trees.

Whilst they were adventuring in the trees, Redbeard suddenly began to bark. Not his usual friendly bark, but a sort of warning one.

Captain Billy immediately pulled to a halt, turning around to see why Redbeard was barking. Redbeard seemed to be facing a bush, one which appeared perfectly normal to Sherlock. He knew that wasn't so, though. The first mate was not known to bark in that way for no reason, which meant that it was just a reason Sherlock couldn't see. He walked back a few steps to stand beside the dog, and squatted down in the dirt. He peered closer at the bright green-leafed bush, blinking his brilliant blue eyes as little as possible, so his stare was more intent.

"What are you barking at, Redbeard?" Asked Sherlock, looking to his dog for a second before turning back to the bush.

Then, while Redbeard continued to bark, Sherlock saw it. The bush was, for some unapparent reason, moving ever so slightly. What was moving the bush?, wondered Captain Billy, squinting harder and leaning forward a bit. As the thing moved again, Redbeard took a very small step away. Sherlock did the same, though not knowing why, just because his dog had done so, and he trusted him.

A small black animal emerged from the leaves. Well, black and white. It was a skunk, one which did not seem pleased to have been barked at by Redbeard. Sherlock smiled. He'd never really been allowed to get this close to a skunk before, given that one time good old Mycroft got sprayed by one about a year or so before Sherlock had been born. Given this certain ban from the white-striped creature, Sherlock had also never been sprayed by a skunk before. He had the tiniest instinct that this was about to change.

But no, the skunk did not spray him. This only intrigued Sherlock's curiosity, so he tentatively reached out a hand. Mycroft had told him that curiosity would most likely seriously maim the feline, but Sherlock was more of a dog-person anyways. The skunk scuttled backwards from his hand, but Sherlock observed that it stumbled in doing so. His first impression was that it hadn't seen a stick or something and had just tripped.

Redbeard was through with barking. As the animal didn't seem to be harming them, he instead plopped down lazily in the dirt beside Sherlock. With the hand that wasn't outstretched to the skunk, Sherlock patted Redbeard's back.

With a friendly, and hopefully calming, smile Sherlock moved his hand forward about half an inch. This time, the skunk leaned forward a bit to sniff it. The skunk stumbled again, and Sherlock deduced that it was injured. While he knew the skunk was likely going to attack him, _Balance of probability _echoed Mycroft's voice in his head, Sherlock inched forward a bit. The skunk inched back, but did not bite him or turn to spray him. Sherlock was glad, that would have made for a very angry Mr. and Mrs. Holmes.

Something occurred to Sherlock, and he removed his other hand from Redbeard's back. Redbeard's gaze followed Sherlock as he outstretched a second hand towards the skunk. Of course, Sherlock had misinterpreted the shy behavior of the skunk entirely. It moved to snap at his hand, and just barely missed, as Sherlock quickly pulled back.

This, of course, was a very poor course of action for the skunk. Redbeard immediately lunged forward, growling and baring his teeth. This effectively got rid of the animal, and Redbeard fell back into his previous sitting position. Sherlock turned to the dog, rubbing his ears. "Good boy! Clever boy!" Sherlock said, smiling broadly. In response, Redbeard panted happily. Sherlock pushed himself to his feet. "Wonder what made him so angry..." Said the captain thoughtfully, shrugging a moment later.

They then proceeded back towards the house, because Sherlock knew that his mum would be preparing lunch, and Mycroft would definitely leave his room for that, so he might get to talk to him. Mycroft never seemed to have time for him anymore, and Sherlock always looked forward to family meals, when he actually got to talk to his older brother.

"What do you s'pose we'll be having?" Sherlock asked Redbeard as they reached the edge of the trees. He didn't get a further answer than a pant from Redbeard, which was the only flaw to having a canine best friend. He had gathered that Redbeard could understand most of what he said, and do a lot more, but he couldn't speak. Which meant Sherlock did an awful lot of talking, just to fill the silence. "I bet it'll be chicken, because mummy made sandwiches last week." He continued.

Redbeard barked in what one could only consider to be agreement.

"You can't chew the bones, alright? Mummy says chicken bones are bad for dogs." He said as they walked. They reached the porch as he finished saying this, and were greeted by Mr. Holmes at the door. "Hullo!" Sherlock chirped happily.

"Ahoy there, Captain." Said Mr. Holmes, the one who encouraged Captain Billy's pirate semantics the most. "Your mum had just sent me out to get you, lunch'll be ready in a few minutes." He said with a smile, before disappearing back into the house.

Sherlock sniffed the air, then looked down at Redbeard. "Told you, chicken." He said, and the dog sniffed as well, then nudged Sherlock's leg with his nose. They proceeded into the house, heading to the dining room. Mycroft was in fact at the table, and Sherlock almost jumped for joy. "Mycroft! You'll never deduce what Redbeard and I found in the yard!" He said with a smile.

Mycroft looked across at Sherlock, and took a couple of seconds to look both him and the first mate up and down. "Something silly, I'm sure." He answered contemptuously. Sherlock had just begun to say that it had been silly, when Mycroft cut him off. "You've got dirt and leaves stuck to your trouser knees, _Captain_. I'm going to say you encountered some sort of animal." He said, glancing at Redbeard with slight disgust.

Not noticing this, Sherlock's smile grew even wider, and he pulled out a chair at the table across from his brother. "It was an animal! It even tried to bite me!" Sherlock said gleefully. It wasn't quite clear why he seemed so pleased that something had attempted to bite him, but he apparently was.

Mummy Holmes chose that particular moment to walk into the room, holding a tray of roast chicken. "Well you're not to go around getting close enough to wild animals that they can bite you." She instructed, offering Sherlock a scold as she set the food on the table. The parents both took seats, and she looked at Sherlock curiously. "What was it that tried to snap at you?" She asked.

Sherlock beamed. "A skunk." He stated proudly. "And it would have bit me, too. But my first mate scared it away." He added, patting Redbeard's head. Redbeard barked once, then lay down on Sherlock's feet.

Mr. Holmes nodded in approval. "Good for Redbeard." Said he, suddenly shaking his head. "But don't go near skunks, they can give you rabies, and make you smell funny." He added, placing a large chunk of chicken on Sherlock's plate for him, and then giving himself one.

Captain Billy muttered a quick thanks for the chicken. He took a bite of it, and also dropped a very small piece under the table for Redbeard. Then he looked over at Mycroft, grinning ear to ear. "Mycroft! Are you done with your book yet?" He asked eagerly, jumping slightly in his chair. He hadn't been able to do anything with his brother all week, and also all of last weekend. Before Mycroft could answer him, Sherlock pressed on. "'Cause I wanted to know if you would play Operation with me...Redbeard doesn't have thumbs, so he can't."

Mycroft opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again. Sherlock blinked his wide, expectant eyes at him. Truth be told, Mycroft had finished the book, and he did have time to play Operation with Sherlock. He also would have maybe even liked to spend time with his brother, as he didn't seem to have time to lately. But he thought that board games were silly, and so were Sherlock's pirate references as of late. So he shook his head. "No, I've still got five or six chapters to read through. Perhaps I can do something with you tomorrow." He said, though he doubted he would.

Sherlock frowned, and his shoulders slouched a little. It was weird, since they lived in the same house together, but Sherlock missed Mycroft. Just the same, he sat up again and fed the dog another bite of chicken without saying anything about his disappointment. "That's alright. How's your book?" He asked, not wanting to finish his conversation with Mycroft just yet.

In answer, the older Holmes brother shrugged. It seemed that his own mindset about their conversation was exactly the opposite of Sherlock's. Rather than speak a reply, Mycroft took a very large bite of lunch, to ensure that he wouldn't have to answer.

Despite Mycroft's clear distaste towards their talking, Sherlock pressed on. "I was reading your copy of _Great Expectations._" He said eagerly. "I was up until ten o'clock reading it." He added, placing extra emphasis on the time he had been up at. He was supposed to go to bed at eight, but it was common knowledge that, while they had them, the Holmes family didn't really enforce bedtimes.

Mycroft nodded. "It's all a bit obvious, really. Have you finished it?" He asked.

"Well, no." Sherlock replied, twirling his fork between his index finger and thumb until Mummy Holmes told him to stop that. "But I think it's quite good. Even if it's a bit obvious." He said, replacing his fork on the table.

"How do you think it ends, then?" Challenged Mycroft when Sherlock agreed that it was obvious.

Sherlock knew his brother was challenging him. While Mycroft called him an idiot really often, he also usually corrected him, in a way that Sherlock might get it right next time. Sherlock really hoped he was right, so Mycroft would be proud of him. "The convict from chapter one is clearly the one giving Pip the money. I think it was Orlick who attacked Mrs. Joe. Estella is the convict's daughter, isn't she? Oh! And does she end up with Pip?" Sherlock said, looking across at Mycroft expectantly once he had finished.

There was the faintest trace of a smile on Mycroft's face. "All correct, accept for that last one, Billy." He answered, and Sherlock frowned, awaiting what he had done wrong. "You ought to know that Estella doesn't hold any affection towards Pip, that much is clear. Now, if Pip thought they would marry because Miss Havisham was his benefactor, then if she's not..." He let the end of the sentence hang in the air so that Sherlock might finish it.

"Estella marries Drummle!" Exclaimed Sherlock, again jumping in his seat.

Mycroft offered an approving nod. Mr. Holmes interjected, "Spoilers, I haven't read it yet."

Sherlock and Mummy Holmes laughed, Mycroft just went back to eating. "I thought you said you were supposed to read it in school?" Asked Sherlock with a questioning look.

"Well, that's right. I was _supposed to._ I just didn't." Answered Mr. Holmes.

Mummy Holmes gave him a disapproving look. Sherlock, like his brother, went back to eating. Unlike his brother, he slipped another piece of chicken to Redbeard.

The family finished lunch, and Sherlock wondered what he was to do now. Mycroft didn't have time to play Operation, and he didn't want to play it with Mummy or Daddy Holmes. He supposed he and Redbeard would just have to go on another adventure. Thus decided, the captain and his first mate started back out of the house, one singing and one howling, _"A pirate's life for me!"_


	3. Chapter 3

Redbeard and Captain Billy proceeded to have what was an uneventful day in anyone else's eyes, and yet a grand one for them. When Sherlock returned home, Mummy and Mr. Holmes were seated in their chairs near the fireplace, Mummy was reading and Mr. Holmes seemed to be struggling to stay awake. Not wanting to be asked about the thin layer of dirt that he had managed to get on the side of his face, Billy slipped past them without making a sound. What he really wanted to do was ask Mycroft about the insects indigenous to the thicket of tree which he used for his adventures.

Unfortunately, when he started down the hallway to ask his brother, the door was shut. That was usually an indicator that he didn't want to be bothered, and probably wouldn't be open to telling Sherlock about the bugs. Still somewhat hopeful, he knocked on the door, waiting anxiously for Mycroft to open the door. Redbeard whined impatiently as they waited, and Captain Billy nearly jumped for joy when he heard footsteps approaching the door.

It swung open, Sherlock didn't quite feel as joyful. Yes, Mycroft had at least answered, but he wore an expression of complete annoyance. "What?" Was all he said, his tone not implying that he actually wanted to hear what it was that his younger brother had to say.

Completely disregarding Mycroft's tone, Captain Billy grinned eagerly. "What sort of insects live here?" He asked, looking up at Mycroft. Redbeard's own eyes appeared to be looking up at the elder Holmes brother as well, as if he also wanted to hear what the answer to this seemingly random question was.

Mycroft frowned. "I'm studying, I don't have time for your silly questions, little brother." He answered. Sherlock opened his mouth to reply, but Mycroft shut the door in his face before he could get a word out.

Captain Billy looked down at his feet frowning. Sensing his disappointment, the first mate took a step nearer to him, licking his palm reassuringly. Sherlock patted the dogs head, turning his gaze from the ground to Redbeard. "I'm tired, let's go to bed." He said, starting down the hallway to his own room.

Once there, Sherlock flopped face-first onto his bed, burying his face into the pillow with the pirate map pillowcase. Redbeard leaped onto the bed beside Captain Billy, sniffing his ear for a moment before curling up at his side. Though he did not lift his head or respond in any other way, Sherlock dropped an arm over Redbeard's shoulders. "Goodnight Redbeard." He murmured, his voice slightly muffled by the pillow and how he was suddenly sleepy. In response, Redbeard rolled to the side so that he was leaning against Sherlock's side.

When Captain Billy awoke the next morning, his face was buried in Redbeard's fur rather than the pillow. He sat up, but the first mate slept on for the time being. The sun was just barely shining through his window, and Sherlock estimated that it was about five thirty in the morning. He didn't make it a habit to wake up at such hours, actually, he usually slept until Mummy Holmes came to get him out of bed. "An object in motion tends to stay in motion, while an object at rest tends to stay at rest until their mothers tell them to get up." She often joked while urging Redbeard to pull the covers off of Sherlock so that he might get out of bed.

Smiling at the joke which he understood to be a reference to Newton's Law, Captain Billy swung his legs over the side of the bed. He very rarely got to lead his minimal landing party to the trees so early in the day, and he was eager to discover whether different temperatures in the daytime affected the kind of wildlife and insects which gathered around the pond. His mind then set to discover this, he hopped out of bed and quickly got dressed.

Noticing the commotion, Redbeard lifted his head and looked over at Sherlock, who was now placing his captain's hat atop his mop of curly black hair. "Come on Redbeard, we're going on a landing party." He chirped, starting barefoot for his bedroom door. He stopped when Redbeard whined softly, and turned to see what the first mate's dismay was about. Sitting at the foot of the bed, Redbeard had a pair of shoes clamped gently in his jaws. Captain Billy grinned, holding out a hand to the first mate. His shoes were dropped in his hand, along with the socks he had stuffed into them.

Once he had his shoes on, Redbeard followed him out the door. Mummy Holmes would not be entirely pleased to find that he was up so early, and so they crept down the hallway as quiet as possible. Had anyone been awake to see them, they would have made quite a sight. Sherlock was walking on his tiptoes, and the first mate was padding silently behind him, as if everything was normal. As cautious as they had been, when they reached the yard they gave that up. Captain Billy began to sing _"A Pirate's Life for Me," _and it wasn't long before Redbeard chimed in with a remarkably on key howl.

By some miracle, however, they managed to reach the trees without waking a soul in the house. Redbeard put his nose to the ground, sniffing at something for a moment before losing interest and prancing after Sherlock, who had gotten ahead a couple of steps. "First mate," Sherlock said, looking down at the dog with mock seriousness. "Our heading is the pond, lead the way!"

By way of response, Redbeard barked twice and bolted off in the direction of the pond. At a sprint, Captain Billy followed just after the first mate. They went on in this manner for no more than three minutes before reaching a small pond, with water so clear that they could see their reflections on the surface. Mummy Holmes had banned them from visiting the pond, however, because the bottom was littered with seaweed and if anyone got tangled up in it the pond was deep enough to drown in. Sherlock had ignored this ban, as his interest in the pond did not lie in swimming, but in scientific studies.

Redbeard and he were sitting at the edge of the water, watching their reflections become fragmented and then normal as the water rippled. There were a few bugs which looked suspiciously like boring old knats, so Sherlock ignored them as they fluttered above and around the surface of the pond. Much to his disappointment, there weren't many interesting species anywhere near the pond. But he did like to make silly faces at his reflection, so he and the first mate remained seated at the edge of the water.

Suddenly, Sherlock noticed a fish swim by. It was there for only a second before it was gone again, but he had never seen this kind of fish in the pond before, so his interest was piqued. Leaning forward so that he was on all fours like Redbeard, Captain Billy peered over the water, searching for the fish again. "There's a new fish, Redbeard." He informed the dog, jerking his head towards the water to better indicate what he meant. Redbeard followed the captain's gaze to the pond, though he didn't see the fish either.

An idea occurred to Sherlock, and he jumped back, looking at Redbeard. "Mummy says that the fish in the pond are all eatable, and Mycroft loves fish and chips. We can catch it and make some! Then he'll play Operation with me, just you wait and see." He said, leaning closer to the pond. Redbeard's answer was inaudible, but he too leaned in nearer to the water. "There it is!" Captain Billy chirped, pointing at a shimmer of silver as the fish glided past them. In his eagerness to point out the fish, he misplaced one hand and slipped.

With a small yelp, he fell head-first into the water. He hadn't had the warning to hold his breathe, and in his shock at slipping into the pond he sucked in a mouthful of water. Instinctively he coughed to get it out, which resulted in swallowing more water. What he knew he had to do was swim back up, but he found that he wasn't able to. Opening his eyes, he was discomforted by the water around him, but it was clear enough for him to see. He looked down to see why he couldn't reach the surface. A length of seaweed(or the pond equivalent of it) had wrapped around his ankle, tendrils of the slimy plant pulling him down as though they were a living hand determined to drown him.

No matter how much he kicked his trapped leg, the plant didn't seem to want to release him. Ironically, the fish which had caught his attention swam by, but he payed it no heed. He scrambled his legs in the hope of releasing himself, which only resulted in further metaphorical fingers of plant curling around his ankle. "Redbeard!" He blurted out, his words indecipherable. A rush of water filled his mouth when he tried to speak, and he clamped his jaws shut firmly to block it all out. He reached out and his fingertips just barely broke the surface of the pond. That was as high as he could get, and his throat burned from inhaling so much water so suddenly. He continued to kick against the plant, but in vain. _Redbeard will save me,_ he thought to himself. _He always does._


End file.
